Weary
by D Mentis
Summary: Drabble/Prose. Sam and Dean are both on a dark road now. Takes place after "After School Special" Triggers "Bloody or Sad" and "Are you happy Sam?". Rated M just to be safe.


**Weary**

It's all wrong.

Sam knows it. He's pretty sure Dean knows it too but neither of them are talking these days. Not like they used to. Not that anyone can blame them.  
Dean's time in the pit has left scars on them both. Time may heal but Sam doesn't think there's enough time left in creation to heal what ails his brother.

Another town, another motel, another case.  
Dean is running them ragged trying to escape the horrors forever nipping at his heels like his own personal hell hound. Sam wants so badly to make things right for him. At first he did what he could. Now he just tries to keep up. Dean plays 'normal' and Sam goes along but nothing is normal. Nothing is right any more.

They check in to their room, lay salt lines, mark sigils, clean and reload weapons. Silent but for the occasional quip or sarcasm. An argument about what to watch on TV or where to eat. The easy banter is gone now but at least they are together. They cling to that because it's the only thing that matters. The only thing that gets them through. Though neither of them ever say it any more.

Dean is back. The Winchesters are whole again so why does it feel like they are still staring at each other across the void?

Another deadline. Another count down. Another crisis on the horizon and it never ends.

In the beginning there was meaning. The hunt for their father, the search for the yellow-eyed killer who shredded their lives leaving nothing but memories and the bloodied remains of things that might have been.  
Even that, which once anchored them is gone now leaving their lives an aimless trek from here to there with no end in sight.

"It ends bloody or sad. That's just the life." Not what Sam needs to hear right now but Dean is all out of assurances. Distracted by the Atlean feat of holding his tortured mind at bay. He keeps it together as best he can. For Sam's sake, or so he tells himself.

He's not so sure who Sam is any more.

Angels whisper things he doesn't want to hear and he's trapped in the purgatory between nightmare sleep and daylight reality.  
He's seen the apocalypse. Been there, done that. The warnings grow more dire and he doesn't care.  
The only thing on Dean's mind these days is rest. When he thinks of a future it always involves his ashes and the final peace of a dreamless sleep.  
Sam knows it, though they never speak of it. He feels it. It's always there between them.  
The ever present unspoken struggle of who gets left behind.  
Dean intends to win.

Exhausted. Running on fumes and fear. Dean knows the urgency of time. It harms as well as heals. The longer he lives the harder it gets to deal with the guilt and the echos in his mind of screams from skinless faces. Tears from sightless, empty sockets. No denying it. No hiding from it.

He flinches when Castiel speaks. Wonders each time if this will be the moment he's cast back to his torment.  
There is no comfort for Dean Winchester. So he runs until he falls down and sleeps in fitful piecemeal moments. Until it's time to run again.

Sam doesn't stand straight very often any more.  
He bows under the weight of his own guilt. His fault. His blood. His curse. His destiny and all the horror it has wrought to all that he held dear.  
He's lost. Even as they stand side by side, he is lost.

He longs for the absolute assurance that his brother could create out of thin air. Since the beginning. Back then, when their father would leave them to chase his nameless quarry and Sam didn't understand any of it. There was always Dean.  
Sam needs Dean to make it ok again but how much more can he expect a brother to give? Was hell not enough?

Sam has dodged damnation so far. He doesn't need it. He's created his own hell. Guilt, failure, loss, weakness.  
Sam seeks salvation for them both. No matter what the price. This time he'll make it right. His mission makes him blind. His good intentions twisted and misused.  
If only they weren't keeping secrets now. If only they could still talk. About any of it. About all of it

It's too easy to lead Sam astray and she knows it. It's all good for Ruby.  
Dean is a mess, no challenge there. Sam is so narrowly focused on fixing things he doesn't see the harm. Or maybe he does. Maybe he's not as easily lead as she would like to think but it doesn't matter so long as he's with her. So long as he's ready to go when the time comes.

Sam doesn't want bloody or sad. Sam wants Dean back. All the way back. Sam wants a future and he wants his brother with him even if all the signs tell him he's chasing vapors. This is all you get kid and even this is borrowed time. The bill came due ages ago and you're both still sitting at the table.

The devil's in the details they say.  
Details that angels keep to themselves.  
About Ruby and Lilith, Sam and Dean.  
About brothers that are, and sisters that aren't.  
And destiny that won't be denied. Even if you went to hell and back to stop it.


End file.
